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User blog:WildloughRhulain/Fanfiction- Green Isle
__FORCETOC__ 'Prologue- The Clans Have Risen' PROLOGUE Diary of Tiria Wildlough, High Rhulain of Green Isle: Does war bring out the worst in us, or is it the worst in us that brings on war? I lifted my quill from the paper and balanced it in my paw for a moment, my thoughts turning to the otterclans. Upon my defeat of Riggu Felis a season ago, all of us relocated to our new home, Holt Summerdell, on the northern part of Green Isle. The former slaves were free and happy; the ancient fortress of the wildcats had been razed to the ground. We'd won our freedom and killed the wildcats, but at a terrible price. So many valiant and caring beasts had fallen. I had ordered a stone monument carved in their memory on the second anniversary of the battle, a tall otter standing proud with a large garland of flowers around its neck and a smile on its face. This was where I sat now, on a bench in front of the monument. Other clanbeasts and I often came here to leave flowers in the day and lanterns at night and honor their sacrifice. I'd brought a lantern tonight. Carved on the base of the stone was an old otterclan dirge my friend Leatho Shellhound translated for me that day. Thy memory stays midst friends, 'neath water thy body lies, thy spirit lives, a warrior star, set high in darkened skies. '' ''I'll look for thee when day is done, thou jewel in night's crown, a fearless legend, burning brave, forever shining down. Tears fell to stain the parchment and my tunic; I covered my face with my paws, shaking. I could never look at the monument without weeping. "Qweemarm?" A little voice sounded behind me. My breath caught in a sob, I turned to see one of our youngest otterbabes standing there, a small kitt named Shyla Streambattle. "Shyla!" I managed a grin; however, I was unable to stifle the next sob. "It's great. . . to see. . . . you, little one, but what are you doing out of bed?" The otterbabe smiled back but her expression changed in a heartbeat to one of pain. "You's hurt, Qweemarm. No scratches or bruises, but you's hurt. Commere, pease." For a kitt, she was incredibly observant. I nodded and walked over to the babe, kneeling at her level so we could see eye to eye. "What is it, Shyla?" She put both paws around my neck in a firm hug and laid her little head on my shoulder. "You's need dat, Qweemarm." Fresh tears stung my eyes. I scooped Shyla up as I rose to my feet, cuddling her to me and returning the hug. "I do. I did and I do. Thank you so much. . . . " The babe didn’t let go. "I's stay wif ya tonight. I's left a note fa mum an' da, dey knows where I be's." "Okay, little one." I yawned, Shyla saw it. "You's needsa goes t' bed, Qweemarm." Category:Blog posts Category:Unfinished Fanfiction